


Traditions?

by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa- (strangeandintoxicating)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Black Paladin!Shiro, Keith accidentally thinks Shiro and Allura are a thing, Keith can't American. He just can't., M/M, blade!Keith, casual mentions of mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23117455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeandintoxicating/pseuds/Strange%20and%20Intoxicating%20-rsa-
Summary: The moment Keith sees Shiro he knows—this human, this beautiful human, was meant for him.Keith just wishes he understood how tohuman. Just a bit.AKA: Keith doesn't understand Earth culture and proceeds to embarrass himself. It's okay—Shiro loves him anyway.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 217





	Traditions?

According to the records, Senior Blade Member Keith met Black Paladin Takashi Shirogane at exactly 04:64 on the Marmora Base in Quadrant 2, Latitude 56, Longitude 145 on the 145th Quintent of the Galran Decaphebe 10056. 

It was important for Keith to remember, because it was clear that despite the fact that Takashi Shirogane—or as Keith would be told when the Homosapien removed his helmet to beautiful dark eyes, a flounce of white hair across his forehead, and a scar that made Keith's stomach curl into knots, _Shiro_ —wouldn't have the wherewithal to do so.

And if Keith was going to eventually ask /Shiro for his hand in marriage one Quintent, it was going to be of vital importance for the records. Because, even after hearing for Quintents that the leader of Voltron, the Black Paladin, was beautiful, Keith hadn't really expected...

Well, _this_.

They'd been waiting in the glider hanger, the only space wide enough for the Lions to properly land, for what felt like an eternity. Keith could feel his hands nervously playing with his blade, trying to keep his head focused on the objective. It was his job as Senior Blade (and the only homosapien-mixed person in the entire quadrant, if not the entire /Universe/) to welcome the Voltron Paladins. As his mother put it, he was the welcome party, and it needed to go off without a hitch.

Of course he wasn't alone; his mother and Kolivan were bound to return within the next Quintent or two, but had unfortunately gotten caught by an erratic Galra cruiser and had to double back to make sure that they didn't accidentally lure anyone near them. So, instead, a few of the other Senior Blades stood behind him, far less than Keith was comfortable with, but he had to make do.

He'd even sent off another platoon of Blades to watch the skies, just in case. The last thing the Blades needed, especially now, was for the Galra to show up at the same time they were welcoming the Voltron Paladins into their base. 

"It's not your first radio, Kit," his mother had reminded him to the bewilderment of both Keith and the other Blades, until she'd explained that it was a human expression to mean that it wasn't his first experience with something so uniquely different.

"But why a radio?" Keith had asked over the video interface. 

His mother only shrugged. "Maybe you can ask the humans when they arrive?" 

Instead of panicking as he wanted to, Keith brushed up on the scant human customs he could remember and what was in the data his mother had compiled nearly twenty decaphebes before.

Still, nothing could have prepared him for the moment he saw Shiro.

All of the other Blades had always teased him about his size, about how small and dainty Keith was, and it had taken many Decaphebes for Keith to come to terms with just how _little_ he was in comparison to so many of his fellow Blades. Ulaz and Thace, his fellow Senior Blades and the biggest pains in the asses Keith had the (mis)fortune to call his uncles, had always told him that he was undoubtedly big for a homosapien, but seeing Shiro? 

Damn. He was more built like a Galra commander than Keith _ever_ could be, and he felt his entire body quake under the man's strong, affirming gaze. 

"You must be the Senior members of the Blades of Marmora. I'm Takashi Shirogane, Paladin of Voltron. You can call me Shiro."

Takashi—Shiro—stuck out his hand, and Keith's mind went positively _blank_.

He was—he was everything Keith could have imagined in a mate. Handsome, strong, dedicated, passionate... Keith could tell just from looking at him that this man, this _human_ , was it.

Keith wasn't stupid. He knew what a handshake was, how it was the typical way that humans (and even some other species) greeted one another but the data from his mother's notes ran through his mind and Keith dropped to one knee, taking Shiro's hand in his own, and lifted his knuckles up to press his lips against them.

This was what his mother had told him was the human way his father had introduced himself to his mother after saving her from her fallen pod, and Keith was so impossibly enamored that he took the jump without a second thought.

“And I am your Keith, Senior Blade.”

From the startled gasp from not just Shiro, but the other Paladins (including the Blue Paladin Princess Allura, who Keith had only ever seen in holograms in his history lessons) he must have done something very, very wrong.

Keith could feel his ears heating up, wishing just a little that his mother and Kolivan hadn't left him alone to do this, because _clearly_ he messed up in a very, _very_ big way. 

But… what did he do? Was it not just a more passionate greeting?

But then he looked up to Shiro, waiting to see if the man had anything to say, Keith could see the red from his hairline all the way down into his spacesuit.

Shiro, Keith decided at that very moment, looked very good in red.

Of course, when he'd finally gotten back up to his feet and welcomed the other Paladins, as well as their... Coran?... he'd been much more careful to do the more customary handshake, which seemed to make the Red and Yellow Paladins particularly grateful.

But when he arrived at Princess Allura, he dropped down to his knee again, bowing his head instead. She may not have been his princess, but she was still royalty and was due the deferential treatment her ranks and title deserved.

That, at least, went over better than pressing his mouth against Shiro's knuckles.

Somewhere in the back of Keith's head, though, Keith wanted to do it again if, for nothing else, to see Shiro's face turn that lovely shade again.

He kept that hidden though, allowing Ulaz and Thace to take over. The introduced themselves with little fanfare before Shiro turned back to Keith with a confused frown. The man had clearly been thinking, silent and mouth slightly agape, before he finally blurted out a, “But—you’re human?” 

Keith wasn’t sure if it was a question or not, but he nodded. “Well, half-homosapien, yes. My mother is Galra, and my father was like you.” 

“So you grew up on Earth?” the Green Paladin, Pidge, asked with a snicker, pushing her glasses up as she elbowed Shiro lightly in the stomach.

“No. I was raised here,” Keith admitted, confused. 

For some reason, this made the team, particularly Shiro, relax. Why, Keith couldn’t even imagine, but Allura whispered something to Shiro, something Keith purposely tried to not listen to, but he did manage to hear “customs” and “different” along with a gentle pat on his hand with the word “relax.” 

Oh.

_Oh_.

Of course, that made perfect logical sense. 

The Black Paladin and the Altean Princess… it didn’t surprise Keith, now that he thought about it. No wonder they had been so offended by Keith’s knuckles to lips introduction. 

Mentally berating himself and wishing very much for the floor to swallow him whole, Keith tried his best to look away from the two. They, no doubt, would make beautiful kits. 

The floor, unfortunately, didn’t swallow him whole, no matter how much he begged, so Keith was left with the very unfortunate requirement of leading the Paladins and Coran into the Marmora base. He could feel all eyes staring at the back of his neck, and Keith had to ball his fists up at his sides not to reach back and rub it. 

No weakness, not in front of the famed Paladins of Voltron. Not after how stupid he’d already managed to make himself look.

“Keith, maybe we should bring them to their chambers?” Ulaz said after a moment, undoubtedly noticing Keith’s pinched face and balled-up hands. 

Keith swallowed and looked to Ulaz on his right before stopping and turning to the Paladins. He tried to relax his hands and avoid looking at Shiro or Princess Allura. 

“My mother and Kolivan will be returning within the next few varga, if not by tomorrow. We’ve set up six rooms, though if Her Highness and her mate wish to share quarters, I’m sure we coul—” 

“Say _what_!?” 

“Mate?” 

“Princess Allura is certainly _not_ —” 

“Hahahaha—” 

“Um.” 

“Pardon?” 

Keith swallowed, hard, before looking at Shiro, who was staring at him as though he’d begun to speak Urdalugian. 

“We’re not—Princess Allura and I aren’t— we’re just friends,” Shiro stuttered out. “What—how—” 

Maybe a horde of attacking Galra _would_ have been better than this. 

Thace, thankfully, managed to save Keith… by throwing him under the bus entirely. “Our apologies. Keith’s still just a kit.” 

“I’m nineteen decaphebes old,” Keith muttered as Thace swung an arm over one shoulder, Ulaz doing the same on his other side. 

“Too much time with weapons training, not enough time with his books. Please accept our apologies for the assumption. As Keith said, six rooms for six guests,” Ulaz added. “It’s a bit late as well, so maybe getting a bit of rest wouldn’t hurt. For all of us.” He accentuated this by yanking just a bit on Keith’s shoulder.

Quiznak, if the group in front of him didn’t think he was a kid already, now they probably were convinced that Keith had a bedtime, too.

_Just let me die,_ Keith thought as he stared at the group. _Let me miserably die._

“Um. Yeah. Of course,” Shiro said after a moment, then looked to the other Paladins. “I’m sure that you’re right. We’ll all be more clear-headed in the morning.” 

“Well, then. Keith, why don’t you lead the Black Paladin to his rooms. We weren’t able to find space in the same area for all of the Paladins.” 

“Wha—” 

Ulaz’s hand on his shoulder tightened. “Thace is right. The rooms just across from yours were cleaned just before Voltron’s arrival. I’m sure they’ll work in a pinch.” 

Those rooms certainly _hadn’t_ been cleaned just before the Paladins arrived. The last time Keith could remember them being cleaned was at least sixty Quintents before, but… 

_May as well not embarrass myself any further,_ Keith thought as he nodded, finally looking Shiro in the eye again. The man didn’t falter for a moment before he glanced away. The redness on his neck was back, too. 

“Of course. I’ll lead you, Shiro.” Keith went to hold out his hand, but from the way that the Green Paladin snorted so hard that she nearly blew her glasses off, Keith instead reached up to push some of his fallen hair behind his ear. The movement was anything but smooth, but it was better than the alternative. 

They split from the others, and Keith led Shiro down the winding corridors toward where his rooms were located. At first, Keith had wanted to just run there, knowing that he could make it to his rooms in little less that five dobashes at breakneck speed. But after realizing how fascinated Shiro was with the architecture, Keith slowed himself down.

“Wow, this is really… wow.” 

Keith nodded. The Marmora base really was something. The silver, empty hallways, the towering glass windows that showed the two black holes and blue supergiant star in a constant war with one another. To some of the rare visitors, the sight had been terrifying (which was exactly why Keith had been fully ready to pull out his com-device to lower the metal barricades) but Shiro stared at them with the same wonder Keith had always felt. 

“There’s no place like this one in the whole universe.” Maybe it was a little ridiculous to brag, but for some reason, Keith knew that Shiro would like it. 

Or, well, at least not mind all that much.

“I definitely believe you,” Shiro said after a moment ashe veered off closer to the window. Outside it was dark, so dark, but in the center was the beautiful light cradled between them. “I never—never thought I’d see something like this. You’re so lucky to have gotten to grow up with this.” 

“And you’re lucky to have grown up on Earth,” Keith replied, though he regretted the words instantly as Shiro turned back to him, the worry evident in his gaze. 

“You said that you grew up here, but your father…” 

Keith swallowed, but he didn’t look away from Shiro. “His name was Tex Kogane. He died in a Galra attack just before my mother left Earth with me,” he admitted. Talking about his dad… he’d never really done that before. Even now the words felt different in his mouth, words that he’d always wanted to say but never had the courage to. With the Blades, the next Quintent could always be the last. There wasn’t any time to think too much about the future. 

But it was easier, for some reason, when he looked at Shiro. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Shiro admitted, voice low and gentle, as though he were rocking a kit to sleep with his words. “Zarkon… he’s taken so much from us, _all_ of us.” 

“If anyone can do it, it’d be you,” Keith said, though just as quickly Keith pulled back, stuttering out a, “I mean—what I wanted to say—you know—” 

Shiro only smiled and laughed. Keith could have drowned in that laugh. “No worries. I get what you mean. And I hope it’ll be me.” It was then, and only then, that Keith saw his arm. Or, rather, the metal of his arm. 

Keith had heard about that, too. Shiro, the Champion. Shiro, Sendak’s favorite fighting slave. Shiro, the human who had gone toe-to-toe against some of Galra’s worst and survived. 

They slowly continued on their trek to Keith’s rooms and the ones Thace and Ulaz had supposedly _cleaned up_ for Shiro. He didn’t want to say goodbye, but standing outside Shiro’s door would have been suspicious for anyone—everyone— and anyway, there wasn’t enough time to really get to know Shiro. Not outside his bedroom doors, anyway.

There were so many questions Keith wanted to ask, but it would have been wrong. Not because Shiro was mated with Princess Allura, because they had been very clear that wasn’t the case, but because…

Keith pulled back and formally bowed to Shiro, neck bent low, low enough for his braided hair to fall to the side and bare his spine to Shiro. “Would it be acceptable for me to call on you for breakfast, Shiro?” Keith asked, though he kept his head down. “I wish to open myself to you.” 

Shiro spluttered. “Wh—wait, what?” 

Keith didn’t move his head, though the knots in his stomach tightened, if that was even possible. “I wish to call on you in the morning. You may sleep on your questions, and so will I.” 

_Please say yes, please say yes,_ Keith wanted to beg. He wanted Shiro to ask him questions, wanted him to open himself up to Keith’s questions, too.

It was one of the easiest and most terrifying prospects, Keith realized after the words left his mouth, but he couldn’t take them back. Not now, anyway. 

If what the princess said was true, that they weren’t actually mates, then maybe… maybe Shiro would accept his request. It was only the first in a wide range of Galra mating tradition, but at least if Shiro said yes—or, _no_ — Keith could at least _know_.

_But if he says no..._ Keith paused. He hadn’t really thought about what could possibly happen if someone, another member of the Blades, realized what kind of stupid mess Keith had gotten himself into not just once, not just twice, but _three_ damn times in less than a Varga. 

Yet, somewhere in the back of Keith’s mind, Keith could hear his mother’s voice talking over the panic and dismay. She always said that it was so hard, nearly impossible, for Keith to put himself out there, for Keith to do anything but panic, but… 

This was a big step. This was maybe even the biggest, most foolish step Keith had ever taken. But to offer an open questioning to Shiro within the first Quintent? 

Who even did that?

“Well, I mean, okay?” Shiro said after a brief pause. 

Keith had thought it would take longer than that, and it made his heart flutter in his chest. 

Then, a little more resolute, Shiro added, “It’d be a great way to get to know one another.” 

_He **does** understand, _Keith thought with a triumphant smile. Despite how much Keith had feared he’d messed it up, he still had a chance. 

And as small as it was, Keith was going to take it. 

“Thank you. I know this probably isn’t your first radio, but it means a lot to me.” 

Shiro squinted at him, even turning his head to the side just so. “Radio?” Shiro asked. “What do you mean ‘my first radio’?” 

Keith blinked. “Isn’t that an Earth term? Your first radio? The first time doing something new?” 

Shiro cocked his head to the other side. “Uh… no. I don’t think so?” Then, “Are you sure that’s right?” 

Keith bit down on his lip nervously, chuckling in order to hide his panic. “Uh… I dunno. It’s what my mom said. Is it right?” 

“Um, I think you mean ‘rodeo’?” Shiro supplied, then scratched at his head. 

“Rodeo?” Keith repeated. “What’s that?” 

“I honestly have no clue. I think it has something to do with horses?” 

“What’s a horse?” 

Perhaps this should have been a clue to Keith, a clue that the customs and traditions of cultures could undoubtedly become muddled somewhere in the pipeline. He may have been half-human, but it wasn’t as though his father’s linguistic ability or culture had been imparted to him on birth. 

Had it been, maybe both he and Shiro could have figured out how to avoid a few terribly-bad headaches on their road to the future. Quiznak, maybe they could have even realized that very night that they were meant to be together and could have snuck into Keith’s room, jumping to the final step rather than floundering around at the beginning.

Instead, Keith and Shiro stood outside their bedroom doors for a good twenty dobashes talking about the intricacies of South-western American horse racing and training and something to do look with lassoing. 

Keith didn’t understand a word of it, but, well…

Culture and traditions are a little weird, aren't they?

**Author's Note:**

> And no: Shiro doesn't actually know what he just agreed to, but... 
> 
> Welp.


End file.
